Alex nodded; just being near the scene was making him jumpy. The AKs couldn’t have chosen a worse time to be here if they’d tried. He took out his cellphone again and glanced at the screen. No call from Willow.

“Wait, what’s happening now?” Brendan peered down the dark steps to the entrance. “The singing’s stopped.”

Alex couldn’t make out the preacher’s words, but it seemed about the right time for the blessings to be taking place. Be careful, babe, please be careful. He was helpless to stop the thought. Hands jammed in his pockets, he stood against the outside wall of the cathedral, resisting the urge to look at his phone again.

He jerked upright as an explosion rumbled, the force of it trembling the ground under his feet.

“What the hell—” Sam’s eyes were wide; his voice drowned out by the thunder of several more explosions.

Oh Jesus, there had been an attack, and Willow was in there—Alex bolted for the entrance while the explosions were still going, hurled himself down the steps. He met a stampede head-on – thousands of shrieking, panicked people, all fighting to get out. The metal detector was trampled to the floor with a crash; people were pushing at him, shouting, forcing him back up the stairs in the swell of humanity.

“Let me through!” he yelled in Spanish. He propelled himself into the hysterical crowd. “Let me through!” Three crying girls shoved forward, shouting in French. Alex lunged past; found himself grappling a man with a frantic face. Howling obscenities, the man threw a punch that connected hard with his chin; Alex punched back without thinking and was past him in a second, battling his way against the tide. Willow was in there, Willow—

Others were fighting to get in too – there were shouts of “Kill the angels! Kill the angels!” as some of the Crusaders barrelled through in a group. A dark-haired woman clutching a baby stood crying in fear, battered from both directions; he saw her start to go down. Despite his own frenzy to get inside, Alex couldn’t ignore her – she and her child were seconds from being trampled.

Gritting his teeth, he got over to the woman and put his arms around her, then fought his way across to the wall with her, shielding her. He could feel the woman shaking as he was pounded from side to side, rocked by the crowd. “It’s okay, you’ll be okay,” he kept repeating in Spanish, and all he could think was, Willow, please god, let her be alive.

Finally the crowd thinned; an opening appeared on the stairs behind him. “You’ll be all right now, Señora,” he said quickly, stepping back. She threw herself at him, kissing his cheek.